


In Spite of the Amygdala

by supreme_leader_grimm



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bottom Kaito, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Killing Game AU, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Slow Burn, based off an rp, hatelove, ill add the tags for the nsfw parts when they come up, nsfw scenes, oumas a dick abt his feelings, starts at chapter 4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 01:21:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17457881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supreme_leader_grimm/pseuds/supreme_leader_grimm
Summary: Letting someone know his secret was the last thing Ouma wanted to do. But someone stole his motive video, so now he has no choice but to make them keep quiet about it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! so this is my first longer fic and it's based off a couple long month rp i did with my girlfriend who i don't think wants her acct name public
> 
> she did momota and i did ouma, and i didn't have her lines from the beginning of the rp so i had to write momota myself which! was a hardship of sorts.
> 
> as i mentioned in the tags, there's nsfw parts as well but there'll be warnings. in the future ill put notes at the end of chapters!

Ouma Kokichi is an excellent liar.

That’s something that can be said, at the very least. He can come up with plans on the fly, change things on a whim. He’s an all powerful supreme leader, after all. Running the world from behind the scenes requires such a skillset! But of course, that’s a lie too. Maybe in the beginning he thought that. The far beginning- long ago during _his_ beginning, their beginning. Being born and leaving and finding everyone and running the world. That’s what it was all about.

That, and staying safe. No killing! How ironic those two words were, standing tall in his mind as ten voices echoed around with constant reminders. _None! Never!_ They scolded, laughing feverishly at his jokes about it. Of course they were jokes, it was always jokes and lies. _Why yes, of course this game’s fun! Who wouldn’t want to kill?_ His mind wanders rhetorically, and for a moment he forgets he’s been standing in the dining hall silently.

Everyone has continued their own activities by now. And he’s still standing, arms laced behind his head in the doorway. Like he was going to make a classic entrance, but didn’t. He supposed everyone else assumed that too, and when nothing happened they returned to business as usual. A logical conclusion, good work detective.

The room was a bit too solemn, as it had only been two days since the death of three classmates. Though one had been a serial killer, it’d certainly taken its toll. But of course! Death was terrible and made him sick. The thought of everyone he’d failed kept him tossing and turning, kept cementing the bags under his eyes like a promise. After all, what kind of leader let’s their followers die?

_But they didn’t believe in you! Don’t feel bad,_ A voice in him says, and he almost agrees. His mouth opens in consent but he promptly closes it, then opens it once more.

“Good morning everyone!” He finally greets. The response is a clinking of utensil on silverware, and at first he tries to remember what happened last trial. Was he involved? He doesn’t really remember much from then, but he doesn’t remember orchestrating any deaths. And now his head hurts, like there’s something pounding at his brain every second. And even though it’s been a few moments since he spoke, he gets words in response.

“Morning, Ouma-kun,” Shirogane is the first to mumble, though at least she’s trying. He can’t say he’s surprised it’s her, considering she’s made an effort to be nice to everyone. _I suppose we all have our own tactics,_ though he severely doubts there’s much hidden beneath her surface.

“Morning Shirogane-chan! I wonder where everyone else is? They all seem to have disappeared like ghosts, huh? Maybe we’re the last two- wouldn’t that be scary?” He prattles on, seating himself next to a pale-faced Momota. Likely at the mention of the word _ghost_ , but whatever. “Or, I guess that’d be good, huh? Since the last two get to leave! Maybe we should plan together and be the last ones standing, nishishi.”

Shirogane looks admittedly bored of whatever he’s saying, but nervously laughs a bit anyways. “I’m not sure everyone would like that!” Her voice is sweet yet dry, and Ouma’s not sure what she’s conveying. Must be difficult being a cosplayer- having to wear so many masks. _I can barely hold one._ Then he picks at his own fingernails, now under the table. He’s sure they’re a dull mess, and he thinks one gets scratched too low and bleeds. _No, you’re fine._

“Wellll, if everyone else isn’t gonna let us win, we can just kill them all! Right Shiro-chan?” He decidedly changed her nickname, but doubts she’ll care much beyond a flustered noise. 

“I’m full,” someone else finally says, and it’s Harukawa. She stands up at the table and walks off, leaving the dishes she ate from and a swinging door in her wake. Momota flinches beside Ouma, and for a brief moment the leader figures he’s gonna get up as well and chase after her. Always a hero. 

But instead the astronaut stays put, and that intrigues him a bit. One glance up at the taller boy tells Ouma all he needs to know.

He’s _mad_.

Not that it was unexpected- after all, Ouma _knows_ he shouldn’t talk so lightly about death. Not in front of the mourning Yumeno, or the ever-so-scarred Harukawa. Yumeno’s strong, Ouma knows that, and he always makes an attempt to be nicer to her. He usually gets shut out, so he stopped attempting. But Harukawa? She deserves every bit of guilt in her mind. Momota was an idiot for not seeing that.

Finally, the man of the hour adds to the briefly quiet conversation. 

“The fuck’s wrong with you?”

“Hm? What’s that Momota-chan?” Ouma inquires lightly, tilting his head up at the astronaut. 

“You heard me. Why are you like this?”

“That’s a pretty loaded question, nishishi,” he replies calmly, almost calculated. It was easy to respond to Momota. “Why are we all this way? I guess it has something to do with our life experiences, or maybe some of us are just pure evil! I know I am.”

“Bullshit!” Momota barked, expression growing darker. His fists were balled now, all eyes at the table on the two of them.

“Isn’t it just better to think he is a fuckin’ evil little bitch? Makes his inevitable death a bit easier to stomach,” Iruma whisper-shouts from across the table. A little too nervously, at that. “S-See? Resolved your little hissy fit. Now I can eat my fuckin’ food in peace.”

There’s a small grunt of consent from Yumeno, who’s picking at her food absentmindedly from beside Gokuhara. She seemed to be in higher spirits yesterday, but that didn’t last long by the looks of it. Ouma holds in a sigh and turns his attention back to the fuming astronaut at his side. 

“Sorry if I made you super mad with the truth, Momota-chan!” He briefly apologizes, smiling brightly still. “Though, how come whenever I tell the truth, everyone gets mad? I thought you wanted me to stop lying…” The smaller boy hops up from his seat, arms behind his head again. “Well whatever! I’ve got things to do, so seeya!” He giggles, ignoring the fact he didn’t eat a single thing. Instead, he begins towards the door.

“Hold on,” A voice warns. Momota. A hand clenches Ouma’s wrist, feeling rough skin nearly ripping his own off. He pauses, and turns to face the astronaut. It’s a stage now, with them being the actors. The audience watches with bated breath.

“Hmm? What is it Momota-chan? Are you gonna apologize for being so mean?” _Keep running your mouth and you can leave,_ he reminded himself. He wasn’t exactly in the mood for this today, not now. But why? Because Iruma had said something...interesting. _Inevitable. Inevitable. Inevitable._ It repeated in his head now, pounding at every corner of his mind. Momota was off to the side of everything, the growing pain in his wrist nothing more than a distant fuzzy feeling.

_Inevitable._

“Ouma!” The astronaut practically screams now, nearly red in the face. The pain in his wrist came back full force, Iruma’s words falling out of focus. Saihara’s staring at him with mild concern, while it looks like Momota’s been yelling awhile. But once the taller boy notices Ouma’s back in focus, he catches his breath. “Well?” he inquires, hand on the back of his neck.

“Huh? Did Momota-chan say something? I didn’t hear it, so it must not be important,” The leader replies casually, moving to turn his heels once again. But really, the next few seconds were a blur.

He was turning, door in the corner of his eyes, but next second all he sees is white and motion and all he hears is ringing above the screaming. A distinct _”Fuck you!”_ resounds above all. But in the moment following, all Ouma hears is shouting and pounding right into his skull, marching all around. He stumbles for balance on the outside, whole body becoming barely more than a ragdoll.

As it finally settles on a hunch, he catches his breath. Sweet air, and he pulls it in greedily. _Count your breaths,_ he reminds himself, but it isn’t like that. Pain is crackling over the white hot buzz from before and he finally feels it- right in his face. His cheek, specifically. Burning from an impact it didn’t expect. The ringing goes back a bit, but he doesn’t have time to hear what the other student say because he’s already fumbling out the door. _Inevitable._

The dining hall door slams shut behind him and he makes his way to the staircase before he collides with a wall and collapses against it. Something’s beating against his skull and for a brief second he’s _terrified_ he got another concussion. But it’s likely the same one- it just decided to come out again. 

“Damn…” is all the small boy can muster, head hanging down. He feels like puking. But maybe the damage isn't that bad. Tentatively reaching up, he brushes his fingers against his cheek and hisses. Maybe it is that bad.

But he can’t stay here forever. If anything’s inevitable, it’s going back to his room. Ouma takes another sharp breath before pulling himself up, stumbling only slightly. He can make it. 

The fresh air of the courtyard soothes his pain a little bit, and he stares up at the sun beating down from the cage bars. It’s high today, an early noon so to speak. Though the passage of time here seemed to follow the same cycle. Sun, moon, sun, moon. Inevitable.

_Like my death if I don’t do something._

So the inventor was finally using her mind? That was a scary thought indeed- considering she was one of the smartest players left in the game. As Ouma strolls through the courtyard, he’s not paying attention to his surroundings. Just his own footsteps against pavement and the hum of his thoughts. She wanted to kill him? That was idiotic, alright. But she’d be a danger for sure, regardless. 

His head swims with a mixture of glee and disgust at the idea of dying in this game. On one hand he wouldn’t have to worry anymore- wouldn’t have to keep anything up. But he also couldn’t let everyone down. He can’t be weak now.

And as he’s walking, he’s nearly reached the dorms when he fails to notice the astronaut sitting cross legged on the grass nearby.

_”Hey!”_ Momota calls out, shifting a little bit as the leader stops and stares. The other’s eyes immediately flit to the smaller boy’s growing bruise- already blossoming into a yellow-green mess. “I wanted..” his voice dies in his throat briefly, and Ouma’s intrigued. Momota’s _never_ uncertain. “I wanted to apologize, y’know? For hitting you. Wasn’t very cool of me. You good now?” 

So he’s apologizing. Not that Ouma particularly cares. After all, he really doesn’t give two shits about what Momota does, punching him or not. It was just a punch and he’d get over it. Right now, he just wants to go lie down in his room for awhile. _And work._ The leader plays with his fingernails at his sides every second it takes him to respond, which is far too many for his taste.

“I’m fine now! I accept your apology, Momota-chan!” He finally cheers, arms falling into place behind his head. This position finally felt rather comfortable, and the support the arms gave him felt… nice? He almost leans back but the astronaut was getting up now and _you need to go_.

“I’m glad you’re being cooperative then!” Momota smiles, walking right up to Ouma and _patting his head_. The taller boy ruffles his hair briefly and the leader feels the barely tangible feeling of something snapping off. Like a scab. His skin is hissing now and his head feels hot and _you need to_ go.

And when Momota pulls his own hand back, his smiles fades at the pink smears on it. His expression falls somewhere between concern and quizzical and Ouma just gives him a frown in return as he leaves. Fast. Runs through the door and up the stairs, all the way into his bathroom. Momota would… inevitably get into his room, as he left the door open, but he’d go away eventually.

The _”Ouma!”_ that follows said student up the stairs is faint, muffled almost. He can’t tell if it’s the distance or the small ringing in his ear from the adrenaline, but he’s not worried about it. His palms are flat on the sink, fingers clenching at air as he turns the water on. With no seconds wasted his head’s down- water in his hands and splashing over his face.

The leader doesn’t dare open his eyes, instead just taking deep breaths and scooping handful after handful of cold water. The splashing becomes rhythmic almost, grounding him back down to earth as his breathing eventually slows to a normal rate. _You’re fine._

His lungs feel constricted at first when he looks up, but he counts his breaths again and just stares at nothing in the mirror. _You’re okay._

He’s not exactly afraid of Momota, but he’s afraid of what Momota can do. Of what any of the students can do. _No trust._ They can weaken him. He’s not strong but he’s strong enough to go on his own. Avoiding bonds helps him anyways- he can just plan, no contingencies. It’s a productive solitude, albeit lonely. Not that he cares too much for trusting anyone here to begin with.

There’s pounding on the bathroom door, and he wonders just how long it’s been there. His name’s being shouted, but he still can’t tell if it’s close or far. His hair’s wet, and he quickly ties it back in a ponytail after drying his face. The pounding continues and the shouts finally come into focus as Ouma shakily sticks two bandaids on to cover the biggest cuts.

“Ouma! Open this fucking door you brat!” Momota’s yelling on the other side, and the boy in question sighs while he turns the knob. The sight is expected- the astronaut is looming down on him with a frustrated frown. His expression softens somewhat when the door opens, or maybe when he sees the smaller boy isn’t bleeding. “Are you _good_?”

“Yep! I’m the goodest, nishishi,” The leader throws his arms behind his head again, giving the other a calm smile. He didn’t really have time for this. Maybe he could blackmail Momota to go away- didn’t he have something wrong with him? Ouma had watched his little “training” sessions during his own spiels of insomnia, and he remembered never seeing the astronaut himself exercise. He could use that with a little more information. _Note to self, watch training again._ “But isn’t it kinda rude to let yourself into other people’s rooms? I didn’t know you were like that, Momota-chan!”

“Shut up!” The taller boy hisses, fists balling at his sides before he exhales a sharp breath and unfurls them. “I just came to see if you were okay. There was blood.”

“Hmm? I mean, you did attack me.”

“On the cheek, yeah. There’s no way that’d make you bleed in the head.”

“Maybe I hit a wall!”

“Why can’t you just tell me?” Momota sighs, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning deeper. “Why do you keep lying? You’re going to get killed like this.”

_Inevitable._

“Does Momota-chan want to kill me? How mean,” Ouma whines, pulling up some fake tears. Usually to use them, he has to think of something upsetting, but he’s already anxious enough that it’s easy to cry. “Why… Why would you do that, Momota-chan? I thou..thought we were friends! Get out of my room!” He hisses weakly before slamming the bathroom door shut and locking it.

There’s more pounding before he hears the clicking of the dorm door, meaning the other boy finally left. But without that distraction, Ouma’s mind falls back into its pit of fear and paranoia. He knows Iruma is trying to kill him- and quite frankly it _hurts_.

But he only has himself to blame.

Of course he _trusted_ her, that was his own mistake. But now he’s got a murder attempt to deal with.

Walking out and falling onto his bed in a heap, he groans into nothing and turns over. The wall above him is checkered, much like his scarf. It makes him half sick, staring at the repeated dizzying pattern. _DICE,_ Ouma thinks immediately.

He absentmindedly reaches for his kubs’ pad on the nightstand.

“What?” Is his first reaction aloud. There’s nothing there, and he keeps grasping at empty space anxiously. _There’s nothing there._

Now he’s sitting up, hand to his hair as he tries to think and _maybe I left it somewhere_ but he never takes it outside. His fingers are picking at each other, scratching down fingernails and he’s sure if they were bleeding already, they are now. _If that gets out this is ruined._ His mind is whirring and he feels useless just sitting down when he could look. 

But he knows he didn’t leave it somewhere, it was stolen.

_Idiot._


	2. Chapter 2

Momota Kaito is quite proud of himself.

He was upset earlier, but now? Nothing has made him this satisfied in awhile.

He has _Ouma_ fuckin’ _Kokichi’s_ motive video, after all. Even though it’s not his (Shuichi refused to give that up), it’s still extremely interesting. The supreme leader was a total mystery to everyone, besides the fact he was a liar. This was going to shed some light for sure. And he was proud of that fact! He’s greatly contributing to the group. Once every student has their information out there, it’ll be easier to find the mastermind!

_And make Harumaki stop believing it’s Ouma._

Just as he’s about to watch the video, there’s a knock on the door. He doesn’t really think twice about who it could be, and instead hides the tablet under his pillow and hops up from his position on his bed. Retreating into his room after stealing from Ouma seemed like the best course of action at the time, and he isn’t regretting that one bit. He has full control in his own domain, after all!

Opening the door, there’s an impatient but half-worried Harumaki on the other side. 

“So this is where you ran off to?” She hisses, arms crossed. She’s far shorter than him, but still taller than Ouma- _why are you still thinking about him?_ \- though he’s kind of intimidated by her. Nonetheless, she’s a lady, and assassin or not she should be treated as such.

“Yeah, needed to blow off some steam,” Kaito laughs, hand rubbing the back of his neck. Maki’s glare softens a bit, and Momota feels his shoulders relax. But her expression hardens again, and she pops a small satisfied smile.

“At least you put that little shit in his place. Serves him right,” she comments, her smile disappearing as soon as she said what she had to. “The bruise will be a nice reminder of how someone managed to hit him down a peg. He deserves that shame too for fucking with us so much.”

Momota lets a sigh escape his lips, but straightens up a bit. Normally he’d agree… but the blood he saw on his fingers only less than an hour ago felt all too real. There were things _off_ about the supreme leader, and now it felt wrong to insult him so recklessly. “C’mon Harumaki, don’t be like that. He’s a shit yeah, but he’s learned his lesson now. We can leave him be.”

“What? Did hitting him make you feel bad?”

“I..” the Luminary of the Stars doesn’t _falter_. “Nah, not really. I mean it felt pretty good, and someone had to do it.” That was the truth. _He didn’t really deserve that._ Thinking about the crack under his fist and the blood on his hand in the courtyard made him dizzy. “But it’s whatever now. He’s not gonna fuck with us again, I’d say.” 

“That’d be nice,” Maki seems calmer now, and is running her hands through one of her pigtails. She’s biting her lip, and Kaito thinks she’s hesitant to say whatever’s next. “I think Saihara wanted to go check out his lab again, and I figured I’d join him. You’re coming,” she quickly corrects herself, “Well, if you wanna come.”

“Yeah of course!” Momota replies instantly, nearly stepping out and shutting his door behind him. _The video_ , his mind rings. He stops and adds, “Just gotta take care of something in my dorm real quick. Wanna make sure Ouma doesn’t break in and mess up my shit as revenge.” 

Maki nods and he shuts his door, immediately going to retrieve the kubs pad from under the pillow. _Where to hide this?_ He thinks, scanning the room. Somewhere high would work, so that Ouma can’t reach it in the very likely scenario he does break in. _I should leave him a note._

Grinning, he grabs some stray paper from the desk and writes something quick. He might be having too much fun with this, but it’s easy to fuck with that brat and not feel too guilty. If Ouma wanted to get over the punch so easily, then Momota could too. 

“Alright, let’s go Harumaki,” The astronaut greets again, stepping out of his dorm and clicking the door locked behind him. “To Shuichi’s lab we go!”

The walk is relatively short, and Momota doesn’t actually feel as winded as he expected. _Well, there’s nothing wrong to begin with, so you’d be fine regardless_ , he reminds himself, opening the door to the lab for the girl accompanying him. Their other friend is seated inside, and he immediately jumps and looks up when he hears the door. But the tenseness soon fades into the calm aura the room had before as Shuichi gives them a light smile.

“Hey, I almost forgot you guys were coming,” he laughs in his awkward way, closing the book- file?- in his lap. “I was just checking out more of these cases… some of them seem oddly familiar almost?”

Kaito plops down on the couch next to him, leaning over his shoulder without a care in the world and trying to see what he was holding. _Volume 47._

“Forty-seven volumes of this shit? Someone had a lot of free time,” the astronaut comments, leaning back in the soft seat and laughing lightly. Maki flicks him on the forehead as she walks by, seemingly inspecting the poisons on the other side.

“Actually, the beginning of each one states that they’re all real murders that occurred..” Shuichi corrects him, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “But some of the earlier volumes don’t have photographs, they have illustrations. The files don’t seem to be _that_ old, though…” 

“Maybe they just didn’t want their photos taken,” Maki adds from behind the couch, still observing the poisons based on the clinking of bottles that Kaito hears. “I can relate.” _She’s mentioned that before_ , the astronaut recalls, _A story about looking like some anime character when she was on a mission…_

“Even so, don’t you think it’s weird?” Shuichi’s voice snaps him back into the present, and he gives him a confident grin.

“Of course it is! But you’re my sidekick, so I’m certain if we work together we can get to the bottom of this mystery,” he says, grabbing one of the case files Shuichi pulled out earlier and flipping it open. 

_Case No. 5: There wasn’t really a victim, it was an already diseased body that was destroyed completely to obscure the victim._

How would anyone fall for that?

There’s an illustration attached of a charred body, and what barely remained of it. It looks like it’s in some kind of garden, and _that’s weird_. Who would even kill in a garden? Then again, he’s seen people do even wilder stuff in this game. 

_In this game…_

His mind trails back to what Ouma says all the time. This is a game. This is something to win. This is fun. _It’s not fun._

But does Ouma really think that? Or is that just a lie? Kaito still needs to watch that damn video.

ーーーーーーー

Thin needles slide into a lock, grasped by a practiced hand. He’s done this hundreds of times, yet he can’t shake the feeling of dread slipping its way into his stomach.

_Did he watch it?_

Ouma hears a small successful click and smiles, pulling his tools back out and slipping them into his pocket. _If he did, I can just deny it. Monokuma isn’t trustworthy. Monokuma is lying. Something like that._ He grabs the knob and opens the door, finding an empty room with the lights off.

He flicks the switch and enters a dorm similar to his own, albeit less cluttered. _They’re all the same,_ he recalls, back when he broke into almost everyone’s rooms. Did Monokuma do that for convenience? _A school this fancy would have individual dorms, you’d think.._

_Not the time_.

Making a beeline for the bed, he first looks under the covers. Nothing. Then the drawers. Nothing. And of course the closet which, once again, holds absolutely nothing of interest. Ouma knew Momota would hide the video, but where? _Does he have it on him?_

Then, something catches his eye.

A small note, lying idly on the desk. Ouma goes over to read it, but frowns as he does, grabbing the paper and tossing it in the garbage. _That fucking prick!_

_Hey douchebag. I have your video. If you want it back then meet me in the casino at six._

The clock on the desk reads five-fifty six. He needs to keep his cool about this. Just go in, mess with the dumbass, and slip out with the video while he’s not looking. _Easy mission,_ Ouma tells himself, pulling his scarf a little before leaving the dorm. _He won’t tell the others._

_Why are you so panicked then?_

Momota is predictable. He always is. This won’t be any different. That calms the leader down slightly, a solid reminder that he has the higher ground here. As he walks along the courtyard path, he finds that none of the other students are out and about. Or perhaps they’re just avoiding him, which is a more likely candidate. It’s a little upsetting sometimes, and something deep inside him wishes that he could’ve led the group instead, but he knows damn well he chose what happened. Plans were in motion.

Momota’s actually sitting on the first floor, which is surprising considering the guy is always attached to the slot machines. _Maybe he finally realized he’s total ass at them,_ Ouma snickers in his head as he begins walking closer. It’s clear the astronaut hasn’t noticed him entering yet, too preoccupied with whatever is in front of him. The flashing of white and red on a rainbow device, though, os probably the least comforting thing he’s witnessed in this school. He exhales a sharp breath, though it feels like he’s finally let go of an even bigger one.

_My video. So he knows now._

“Heeey, Momota-chan, I’m here now!” Ouma calls over, moving a little more speedily to his destination. “I see you’ve recovered a lost item of mine! Give it back now, pretty please?” 

Momota looks at him and moves the tablet into his lap, crossing his arms over it. “Not yet,” he replies, giving the other an unreadable look. “We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiii sorry for like disappearing for months lol w/ no update..... i mostly was spending time on other projects and also working out this one! as i mentioned its based off an rp, but there were still some changes i wanted to make so i ended up making notes of everything i want to occur in order to make writing easier. this chapters a little lackluster, but i promise the next one will be more fun haha
> 
> im also looking for a beta reader??? so if ur interested pls hmu @ataraxixx on tumblr!!


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